


Dark Corners and Crumbling Facades

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bittersweet ending because why the hell not, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, One Shot, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A New Year one-shot in which Christa is tired, Ymir is somehow hopeful, and the world hasn't fallen apart quite yet.





	Dark Corners and Crumbling Facades

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a quick heads up: this one shot, and most of my modern day AUs, take place in good 'ole homophobic America. I felt it was necessary to give context for a certain part of the story. Also, I wrote this one right before this past New Year.

Twenty minutes to midnight. The crowd of college kids was boisterous, shouts and laughter filling the campus house. The New Year party was in full swing, with glasses overflowing and the atmosphere growing hazy.

I couldn’t manage to escape the swarm of classmates at my side, ears ringing with drunken giggles and witless banter. The girls kept handing me plastic cups while every overconfident male playfully asked for a dance. I was done with the evening before I’d arrived.

“Look at him” the girls would coo amongst themselves.

“So tall” they whispered with shifting gazes.

“I think he’s on the football team?” They conferred. The stereo against the wall assaulted my eardrums.

“Track, right?” They questioned, seemingly immune to the noise.

“He’d look so good with cute Christa.” Finally, a manicured hand landed on my shoulder. I could smell the alcohol rolling off their tongues. They were circling like vultures, overly excited and paying no mind to my body language.

“Oh my God, right?” One squealed, taking a moment to readjust her short dress.

“You’ve been single like, all year” they said, now addressing me. _No,_ I was prepared to correct, _I’ve been dating plenty. You called them my ‘nice friends.’_ They didn’t wait for a response.

“You’re totally pretty.” _How is that relevant?_

“You should talk to him.” _I’m not interested._

“He’s glancing over. He’s so into you.” This time I pushed the drunkest girl off my shoulder, turning to speak over the obnoxious volume.

“I don’t care” I said blandly. They didn’t seem to hear.

“Should we signal him?” One suggested. _It’s too dark in here._

“I think he’s already caught on.” _The cigarette smoke is giving me a headache._

“Hold on, guys” one said in a meeker tone. “Christa, you look pale. Everything okay?”

“She’s had quite a lot to drink. We all have” another interjected, a piercing laugh following her statement. The rest of the vultures joined in, cackling together.

“I think at this point we just need to get laid” a girl suggested loudly. Hoots of agreement followed. Then someone pushed me forward, toward the approaching athlete.

Feeling dizzy suddenly, I struggled to right myself. I was wide-eyed with a racing heart. The room was spinning the slightest. There was a peculiar light glaring in from another room. “How many times do I have to do this?” I muttered. They weren’t listening, yet they continued to watch with anticipation.

The floor felt unstable beneath my feet. My brain was pounding. I thought my head just might explode. There’d be pink goop all over this trashed house. No, maybe it’d be gray. That’d make more sense.

I looked up and glanced around, searching for an escape. Simply a mass of people, swaying to the bass and spilling their drinks onto the already sticky floorboards. Cheap silver streamers glittered along the walls, reflecting each small source of light.

And the throbbing wouldn’t stop. The girls were still chattering amongst themselves. White teeth and red lips. Shrieking tones and idiotic phrases. “Can you all just shut up?” I exclaimed.

Everyone in the near vicinity slowed. The movement and conversation didn’t entirely stop, but the room was significantly quieter. I clutched at my skirt, feeling panicked and exposed. I should’ve worn pants. I shouldn’t have spent so much time on my hair. I shouldn’t have even come.

Heaving a couple of deep breaths, I turned to meet the girls’ shocked expressions. “I’m a lesbian” I stated dully, a complete contrast to the desperate emotion present in my previous statement.

“I’ve mentioned my girlfriends, shown no interest in any of the men you’ve tried to set me up with. Fucking God, how many times have I outright stated that I like girls?”

_You sound insane,_ I reminded myself, _delusional and psychotic. They’re going to think you’re emotionally unstable._ I continued anyway, a long-dormant fire raging inside of my small body. “I don’t know if you’re really that oblivious, or just choose to look the other way. Any reason aside, I’m _done_. You people don’t listen. You push and push and expect me to just go along with it. I-”

My speech cut off abruptly. The words caught in my throat. There were black spots in my vision. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore” I said in a calmer tone. Looking back out at the inquiring crowd, I eventually located the front door, hidden in a long shadow.

My first few steps were staggered, but I continued to walk towards it nonetheless. The sea of bodies parted for me wordlessly. Just a couple more feet away from freedom, and then my vision went out completely for a moment. I felt my legs go limp in that split-second. Luckily, there was a sturdy chest and a set of arms to fall into.

My heavy breathing had turned ragged. Despite the sudden weakness in my limbs, I struggled to push my rescuer away. “I need to get outside” I muttered.

“Relax. I’ll help you” they assured. The voice was low, yet female. She helped me stand upright again, my hand lingering a bit too long on her abdomen. She guided me firmly by my bicep, leading me the last few steps as my vision continued to blur.

When we made it outside, I felt the winter air hit me like a brick. It was harsh and stinging, numbing every inch of exposed skin.

There was a small porch out front, and a wooden railing facing out toward the rest of the silent neighborhood. She brought me to the rail so I could lean on it. As soon as I was settled, she backed away, giving me much-appreciated space.

The moon wasn’t very bright, and the lack of light eased the pressure in my skull. I had to take forcefully even breaths to calm my body down. I’d nearly felt suffocated inside among so many people, so the open air felt very comforting.

Meanwhile, my rescuer watched the street from a distance, quiet and patient.

“That was quite the statement you made” she then said smoothly.

The winter air was sharp in my lungs, but luckily the town hadn’t received snow yet. The railing was dry and free of ice. I wanted to laugh at how easy and casual her statement was. There was a hint of familiarity in it too. Maybe she was in one of my classes.

“Not really” I replied hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that, but they just _never listen_. I thought I was done with this shit after high school. You know, having to constantly come out and all that.” I measured my breathing, making sure I was taking in enough oxygen.

“I get so tired of dealing with it” I went on, wondering why I was even confiding in what I guessed was a near stranger. “They assume everything fits perfectly into their hetero world, and when I’m the anomaly or something goes wrong… It’s like, they expect _me_ to apologize for being different. I’m not the one making blind assumptions here!”

This time I let myself chuckle, though it came from a much more insincere source. “When I came out to my parents, they said it was ‘okay.’ That _of course_ they still loved me. As if I was the one who did something wrong. You live with so much ingrown homophobia, _all those tiny remarks_ , and yet you’re still not the victim.”

I exhaled shakily. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”

“No, you’re fine. I get it. You gotta let it out at some point” she said evenly. The sharp wind whistled past the small houses, ruffling my skirt on its way through.

At this point, my eyes were beginning to clear, so I figured I’d finally be able to get a decent look at her. Once I glanced over, however, I nearly fell apart again.

“Fuck” I said simply.

She met my frozen expression with surprise, waiting for some sort of explanation.

Of course it had to be her, standing out here in the soft December moonlight with me in such a careless manner. Her tan skin appeared to be glowing, her lithe body a graceful silhouette against the dark background. She was tall and fit and just as attractive as I recalled her being.

“Been a little while, yeah?” Ymir prompted, head propped against an open palm, weight held up by the old railing.

“You remember me?” I asked in disbelief. I’d been pining over this woman the entire semester. She was two years older, a whole lot more confident, and frequented rather popular crowds. What were the odds that I’d be a girl she recognized?

“Obviously?” She said with a short laugh, seemingly as confused as I was. “Sweetheart, I looked for you for weeks after that first night. But you’re so short, I can’t seem to spot you on campus.”

I snorted at her attempted joke, then tried to reassess details of the evening when we first talked. It was a Halloween party. I’m always invited to those sorts of events. I spent most of the time in unoccupied corners, offering polite smiles when expected to. Ymir was never far away, although she was surrounded by equally tall, athletic guys. They conversed easily, and at one point, she was alone.

It was pretty late, I was rather tired, and admittedly tipsy. I must’ve been staring at the freckled woman for too long, since I eventually caught her eye. Long story short, I can’t remember what I said that was charming enough to reel her in, but her we ended up in some dim hallway. It must have been a solid ten minutes of making out until my ride for the night started searching for me. I had to reluctantly push her away, and scurry toward my designated driver.

“I wish I’d gotten your number, but you move quick. I didn’t have the time to get the question out.”

“Er, sorry” I replied meekly, a little bit embarrassed that I put her through any sort of trouble. _If I had known you were actually into me, and it wasn’t a one-sided ordeal, I wouldn’t have avoided you so carefully_. “I guess I was too shy to try to contact you after as well?” I tried to explain instead.

“You did end up approaching me again though” she pointed out brightly.

“What?” I questioned. “No I didn’t. That was the last time we spoke…”

“Oh. You don’t remember. Well, you were severely hammered” Ymir concluded.

“When?” I asked, still thoroughly perplexed.

“Election night” she answered simply. “There was a smaller gathering at my friend’s dorm complex. Things took a turn for the worst pretty early in the evening, and I watched you downing shots throughout the span of a half-hour.”

I slowly lowered my face into my stiff hands, groaning as if I could still feel that legendary hangover. “ _God_ , that was a terrible night.”

“Agreed. I figured it could’ve been worse, though. I convinced you to let me drive you home before anything got too out of hand. Then you were…” she laughed at the recollection, “Rather handsy in the car. It was distracting and dangerous, you know.” The humor in her voice drowned out whatever reprimanding tone she was trying to achieve.

“I apologize for all of my drunk actions” I mumbled into my palms.

“It wasn’t _torture_ , sweetheart.” She paused after the pet name. I could feel her gaze heating my chilled skin. “Anyway, I tried to drop you off, but I couldn’t get you to leave the car. Eventually, you stopped whining and merely said in the most serious tone-” she snorted loudly, interrupting her own story. “Sorry. You looked me dead on and said _‘let’s get married before this motherfucking country burns down.’_ I swear it, word for word. I will never forget that proclamation.”

Now I had to look back up, too shocked for words immediately. Then they flooded back into me. “We didn’t, did we?”

“Oh God, no. I just answered with a yes so you’d agree to leave the car.”

“Please tell me that was the end of our adventure.”

“Not quite” Ymir responded. “Although it stopped being funny after that. You kind of broke down as soon as I got you into your room. You… ended up sobbing on your bed. I couldn’t just leave, though. I mean, it was all hurting me too. So I stayed for a little while longer. We didn’t do much. You cried into my shirt and we sorta just… laid there.”

I stared at my fingers. Maybe it was the lighting, but it looked like they were gradually turning blue. _How did I forget that?_ I wondered.

“Our brains block out memories we can’t handle, at least for a certain amount of time after” Ymir murmured, as if answering my inquiry. At my momentary surprise, she added, “I’m a psych major.” I nodded in understanding. She cracked a smile. “Plus, as I mentioned, you were very drunk.”

I absently twirled a strand of blonde hair around my finger, attempting to preoccupy myself. “Thanks for being there” I said softly, “Even though I was an inconvenient, blubbering, emotional mess.”

“Anytime” she replied in a sudden cheery tone. The sky was strung out in near silence once again, the only obtrusive sound being the emanating bass from behind. “I know this is a little forward, but I’m afraid I won’t have another chance to say this” Ymir abruptly began. “I want to see you again. Not like this though, with a month in between each time. Like, regularly instead. If you’d want to too, that is.”

I sighed. The air fogged out like a spirit escaping my exhausted body. “I just had a second emotional breakdown, in front of other people, within the span of two months” I stated, running a shaking hand through my curled hair, “And you’re still interested?”

“I like you, Christa” Ymir replied blatantly. No excuses, no drawn-out explanations. Just a simple phrase.

I gripped the railing even harder, needing more support than before. The splintered wood pricked my numb fingers. Ymir was watching my distressed movements. She noticed.

Slowly reaching out, she laid a gentle hand upon mine. She eased my fingers away from the wood, then lifted my hand away altogether. The taller woman stepped closer, pulling me toward her for support, rather than the railing.

“It’s cold out here. I should go home.” My heart was racing, however in a different manner than previously.

“Sure. I’ll drive you” she said smoothly. “I still need a response.”

“I yelled at the only friends I’ve had all semester. They probably hate me now” I evaded.

“Maybe. Did you really need them in the first place?”

“Do you really want someone like me?” I asked, feeling aggression towards myself and my own faults, yet the question came out in a weak tone.

“Yes. I already told you. Stop pushing people away, Christa.”

“Why are you so kind to me?” I whispered, fixated on her long fingers, and the way they held my smaller hand. Despite the temperature, her skin was so warm.

“You’re a waitress at that coffee place on the eastern side of campus” she said out of the blue. She kept our intimate proximity.

 “It was the first week of this schoolyear. I’d broken up with a long-time girlfriend merely days before. I was such a mess, and it was pretty apparent. You served me coffee that morning. And you paid for it. Didn’t ask what was wrong. You just took one look and decided to make my day a little less shitty.”

“I don’t-”

“Remember that? I know. I was simply another customer. That’s what was so surprising and nice about it. It was a little act for some stranger.”

“Is that why you even talked to me on Halloween in the first place?”

“I guess. I think you also looked lonely. And cute, clearly” she responded with a chuckle.

I rested my head against her chest without warning. Her scent was actually familiar. Ymir’s body went stiff for a moment, shocked by my abrupt movement. She eased up quite quickly, however, and swiftly pulled me into a full hug.

It was comforting in a manner I hadn’t expected to experience tonight. It was strange having such a present and feasible source of warmth. Her arms encompassed me completely and securely.

Then cheers erupted inside the house. I’m sure it’s safe to assume the clock reached midnight. _Goodbye, 2016,_ I thought faintly, glad that I didn’t have to step into the new year alone.

“Honestly, I think this year will be better” Ymir said, having picked up on the crowd’s excitement as well.

“People always say that” I reminded, eyes closed as I continued to revel in her heat.

“True” she admitted. “But if we really burn this year, we’ll go out fighting.”

“You haven’t lost hope in the future? I never pegged you as an optimist.”

“I’m not. People like us don’t just fade quietly though.”

“By ‘people like us,’ you mean lesbians, I assume.”

“Yes, lesbians.”

I laughed humorlessly. “Great. Bring on 2017. We’ll watch this motherfucker burn.” With that, I pulled away from the safety of her embrace. To be honest, I’d been experiencing the world falling apart around me for months already. It was devastating and terrifying, and unexpectedly isolating. But I had to ignore my doubts for the inevitable future, and allow myself at least one moment of joy. So I reached up to throw my arms around Ymir’s neck, and let my body fall back into hers. I admired her soft eyes, and the thin strands of hair framing her face. Then I closed my eyes and kissed her smiling lips.

Ymir was quick to hold me steady, one hand grasped tightly to my waist, the other buried in blonde curls. I breathed her in like I was a dying flame, almost hoping her heat would engulf me altogether.

The moon wasn’t very bright that first early morning of the year. It offered just enough light to bring out the shadows of our surroundings. There were cracks in the pavement, too many dark corners to count, and a deafening white noise in the background. Considering each cruel event of the past year, and the truths behind facades that were revealed in the aftermath, I suppose things may never get better from here on out. Yet I hope, rather I know, we can make something of the ashes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Give a kudo or comment if you liked this. And to all my fellow queer-folk: we've still got this, guys. We can shape the future. Things will get better with time, I promise.


End file.
